


Motorcycle Accident

by popculturehoe



Category: Billy Joel - Fandom
Genre: Emergency room, F/M, Hospitals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:22:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24252775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/popculturehoe/pseuds/popculturehoe
Summary: Takes place after Billy's motorcycle accident in 1982.
Relationships: Billy Joel/Original Female Character, Billy Joel/reader
Kudos: 2





	Motorcycle Accident

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there!! This is probably the first story in this category so... enjoy??

You shoved the emergency room doors open and looked around frantically. You had come home to a message on your answering machine from a nurse at the local hospital, informing you that your boyfriend had been in a motorcycle accident and they were unsure of his condition at that time. Running over to the nurses station, your heart was pounding. He had just gone out for a ride to clear his head and get some fresh air, nothing unusual. But he had gotten hit by a car and was waiting to hear from a doctor, that was all they could tell you. 

“How can I help you?” One of the nurses asked you, looking disinterested.  
“I’m looking for Billy Joel,” you told her exasperatedly. The woman snorted.  
“Yeah, and I’m growing a money tree in my backyard.”  
“Seriously,” you said, getting louder. “I’m looking for Billy Joel! He’s my boyfriend and I got a message from one of the nurses here that he was in a motorcycle accident. Where the hell is he?”  
She rolled her eyes and sighed. “Give a second.” She picked up the phone and dialed. “What ward is BJ in? He has a visitor.” She glared at you. “He’s still in the emergency room, go straight through that door and to the left.”  
You mumbled a thank you and walked quickly through the emergency room doors. Your heart started racing again and there was a pit in your stomach. You had no clue what kind of state you were going to find him in. Was he going to be hooked up to tons of machines? Was his face going to be bloody and battered? Was he going to even know you were there? 

Turning a corner and walking down the hallway, you saw his face through a small opening in one of the privacy curtains. Cautiously, you pulled the curtain back more. He was sleeping, and he looked comfortable. There were several bruises and scratches on his face, but nothing major. Then you looked down at his hands - they were swollen, badly bruised, and most likely broken. You let out a tiny sob; his hands were part of his livelihood, if he couldn’t play the piano, he had nothing. Walking closer to the bed, you carefully stroked his hair and bent down to give him a soft kiss on the forehead. 

“Oh, love,” you whispered. There was an IV in his arm, hooked up to a bag that you could only assume was morphine. He stirred slightly. “Shh, it’s okay.” You sat down in a chair in the corner. After a while you found yourself dozing off. 

“Hey,” you heard your boyfriend’s voice for the first time since coming there. It sounded more like a croak. It took everything in you not to completely break down crying, to rush over to him and lay on top of him.  
“How are you feeling?” You asked, but then realized it was probably a stupid question.  
“Pretty okay actually,” he replied. “A little sore though, and my hands are killing me.”  
“We’re gonna get through this, Billy,” you tried your hardest to keep strong.  
“Don’t we always?” He smiled weakly. He turned over with a groan, his eyes closing again. 

Later you were awoke by the sound of a doctor pulling back the privacy curtain.  
“Hello there,” the man greeted you, looking at his clipboard. “I’m here to see William Joel?” He looked to be your parents’ age, and he obviously had no clue who your boyfriend was, although it was probably better that way. He glanced over at the bed, where Billy was asleep again after having x-rays done on his hands, and then turned to you. “You’re his…?”  
“Girlfriend,” you told him, suddenly worrying that you were going to get kicked out because you weren’t blood related or married.  
“Ah,” the doctor said. “I’m Doctor Reynolds, I’ll be the one doing his surgery tomorrow.”  
“Surgery?” You asked, completely flabbergasted.  
“I guess no one’s told you,” he said, pulling an x-ray out of the file he was holding and put it up on the light board. “Several bones in his wrist are broken, and his left thumb is completely shattered.” He pointed to the spots on the x-ray for you to see.  
“Oh my God,” you breathed. “Is… Is he going to ever be able to play the piano again?”  
“If all goes well,” Doctor Reynolds started. “In a few months I don’t see why not.” Looking over at your sleeping boyfriend, you let out a breath that you didn’t realize you were holding. “I’ll be back later to go over the procedure in more detail.”  
“Thank you,” you said as he left.  
“What did he say?” You heard your boyfriend say as he stretched, careful not to cause any more undue injury or pain to his hands.  
You swallowed. How the hell were you going to break this to him? Your heart was breaking already. “He said you have to have surgery tomorrow. Thats the only way you’re going to be able to ever play again.”  
“Oh God,” he whispered, his face dropping.  
“Your right wrist and left thumb,” you told him, voice straining with emotion.  
“Fuck,” was all he could say. You walked over to the bed and sat down next to him. “He said I’ll be able to play again?” You nodded.  
“‘If all goes well’ were his exact words.”  
His eyes darkened and his jaw set. “And if not…?” You took his hand. “Then what? What the /fuck/ am I gonna do if I can’t play again?”  
“He’s coming back later to go through the surgery with you,” you told him. “He seemed pretty optimistic.”  
“That’s his /job/, (name)! He has to tell you it’s gonna all work out!” He was getting angry now.  
“No he doesn’t!” You argued. “You’re just being pessimistic.”  
“That’s my knee-jerk reaction,” he said. “You of all people should know that. That way you’re pleasantly surprised when things go good.”  
“That’s no way to go through life, Billy,” you scolded him. “Everything’s gonna be okay, you’re gonna play the piano again.”  
“Well, that’s how I go through life,” he scoffed. “My life’s been shitty, and this is just another shitty thing to add to the list. You can be blindly optimistic, but I aint drinking the Kool Aid.” He took a deep breath. “Meetin’ you though… was the only good thing to ever happen to me.”  
“What about, I don’t know,” you laughed. “Making music and playing to hundreds of people every night?”  
“Oh yeah, that too,” he smiled. 

Early the next morning, Billy had surgery to repair the damage in his right wrist and left thumb. It took the doctors long than they were expecting, it took them more than 2 hours just to put his thumb back together, and all the while you were wandering around the hospital trying not to think of everything that could be going wrong. He could have bled out on the operating table, his heart could have stopped during the surgery, he could have stopped breathing… your imagination was running wild and not in a good way. 

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, you saw the doctor turn a corner and walk towards you. Your hands started shaking and you could hear your heart pounding in your ears. Your better judgement told you that he was probably going to give you good news, your anxiety was getting the better of you. 

“Hello there,” he greeted you. “You’re here with Mr. Joel, correct?” 

“Yes,” you told him, trying to keep your voice from shaking. 

He looked at his clipboard. “He just came out of surgery, you should be able to go see him in about a half hour. He’s still in recovery.” 

You took a deep breath, instantly feeling relieved. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” With that, you collected your things and went down to the gift shop to get some flowers for Billy’s room, as well as some chocolate. By the time you had gotten everything, you went up to the nurses’ station on the 10th floor of the building. The nurse who was currently at the desk was a lot nicer than the one in the emergency room, and she told you that they had brought your boyfriend into his room a few minutes prior. 

Walking into the room, you placed the flowers into a jug of water that was sitting next to Billy’s bed. He was sleeping peacefully, still coming off the anesthestic you assumed. There was another IV in his arm, once again probably morphine or some other kind of painkiller, and a cannula in his nose. You took a seat in the chair that was situated next to the bed, not wanting to disturb him but at the same time wanting him to wake up so you could start taking care of him. You’d seen him be vulnerable before, but nothing like this. He was completely helpless. When you got him home he wouldn’t be able to do anything for himself for at least a few weeks, and you knew he wasn’t going to like that at all. 

Billy groaned in his sleep, and you had been so lost in your thoughts that you barely heard it the first time. You shushed him gently and he sighed and went back to sleep. 

Suddenly you heard footsteps approaching the room, and then there was a short, loud knock on the door. You turned towards the sound to see Billy’s ex-wife, Elizabeth standing in the doorway. 

“Elizabeth,” you said, not hiding the shock in your voice. “What are you doing here?” She and Billy had divorced almost three years prior, but he (and you, unfortunately) still saw her quite frequently because her brother Frank was Billy’s manager. 

“(Name),” she said curtly. “I heard about what happened. Is he awake?” 

“No, he’s not,” you told her. “And I’d prefer it if we didn’t wake him just yet. He’s still coming off the anesthesia and is probably still in a lot of pain.” 

“I need him to sign a few papers,” she explained, pulling out a file she was carrying. “Copyrights and all that. Industry stuff I’m sure you don’t understand.” You narrowed your eyes; she always had this holier-than-thou, condescending attitude, and ever since Billy started bringing you around the studio, she always spoke to you like you were a child and an idiot. Billy groaned again and you both looked at him. His eyes were halfway open. 

“Hey,” he said groggily. “What’s goin’ on?” You quickly made your way towards the bed and held his hand. 

“Nothing, honey,” you said, trying to draw attention away from the fact that his ex-wife was there. “Go back to sleep.” 

“M’kay,” he mumbled. “Can you get me somethin’ to eat for when I wake up?” 

“Of course,” you smiled, kissing his forehead. The smile was completely gone from your face when you turned back towards Elizabeth. “You woke him up!” 

She rolled her eyes. “I really need him to sign these papers, it’s very important that he does it as soon as possible.” She wasn’t even bothering to whisper. 

“You couldn’t even wait until he was home to do this?” You asked, starting to get annoyed. “You could’ve at least mailed them here or something, and I could’ve gotten him to sign them tomorrow.” 

“It really can’t wait,” she said. 

“Who’s here?” You heard him ask. He blinked slowly a few times. “‘Lizabeth?” 

“Yes, it’s me, Billy,” she said, moving closer to the bed. “I have some important documents I need you to sign for Frank.” Now you were really angry. You couldn’t believe that she had the nerve to come up there and try to get Billy to sign the papers right then and there. You gestured for her to follow you out into the hallway, and it took everything in you not to pull her by the arm to do it. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” You asked once you were outside of the room. You looked around, making sure that no one was watching the two of you. “Can’t you see he just had surgery? He’s high on painkillers for God’s sake!” 

“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “This needs to be done as soon as possible, because I need to get it to the lawyer’s office first thing tomorrow morning.” 

“What the fuck could be so important that you have to make him sign now?” You asked. In a moment of bravery, you grabbed the file from her hand and looked over the papers. You were ready to slap her, but instead you shoved them back at her and held the bridge of your nose. “You have got to be the coldest, most selfish, uncaring person I have ever met. I don’t know how he stayed married to you for so long. It definitely wasn’t for the sex, because from what he’s told me you never put out, and when you did, it wasn’t very good.” Her jaw dropped and her face turned into a scowl. 

“You little…” 

“Don’t wanna cause a scene,” you chided facetiously. “Now get the fuck out of here. Billy won’t be signing those papers until he’s ready and read them over thoroughly.” She huffed, stuffing the paperwork back into the file, and turned to leave. You went back into Billy’s room with a satisfied smile on your face. 

“Everything okay?” He asked, still sounding groggy but more awake. 

“Everything’s perfect,” you told him, sitting down in the chair next to his bed.


End file.
